


Lover's Jealousy

by Inkblooded_Witch



Series: Lover's [5]
Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 06:17:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6504190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkblooded_Witch/pseuds/Inkblooded_Witch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even after getting married, Alex is still very possessive. Alfred doesn't understand it, knowing he doesn't have anything to worry about, but that doesn't keep things from escalating after a run-in with Alex's less than virtuous cousin. America/2P America. One-shot. Sequel to 'Lover's Nerve'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lover's Jealousy

    "What are you doing?"

    Alex ignored the gasped question, tightening his grip. Alfred was starting to struggle, and though he wasn't using his full strength yet Alex knew better than to underestimate him. There were three people in the world he'd met that could match him when he used his full strength. The man he'd married was one of them.

    "Alex?"

    At first he was going to continue ignoring his partner's protests, but he noticed the genuine worry slipping into his voice. Reluctantly, Alex pulled away, giving the second hicky he'd just finished with a final lick. The hand Alfred had fisted in his shirt didn't loosen, still trying to push him away, the other trying to pry itself free from the hand pinning his wrist to the wall above his head.

    "Alex, what's wrong?" he asked through swollen lips, blue eyes wide.

    "You're mine," Alex growled, not in the mood to explain. He wasn't even sure he could. He was still just so _angry_. "You got that? _Mine_."

    "Why are you upset? What-

    "You know damn well why." The growl hadn't left his voice yet. He wasn't sure he wanted it to. How could Alfred not know?

    "No, I don't. Look I don't mind it when you're rough but this isn't right. Why are you so mad?"

    Alex gritted his teeth. They were still in the front room of their apartment, having just stumbled through the door. It was one of the first times they'd gone out after the tiny ceremony in town hall. They'd gone to one of the local bars, the idea being to relax a little on a Friday night. Admittedly it was Alfred's idea, but the place he'd picked was one Alex usually enjoyed going to. He had nothing against a good beer, of which they carried several that were both vegan and very good, not to mention the fact that this particular place had several good vegan dishes. Not many, but a few, and all of them were delicious.

    At first it hadn't been that bad. For someone who usually loathed interacting with humans, Alex actually enjoyed himself. It wasn't too crowded for a while, the server was good, the food and beer was prompt and worth getting out for, and he got some quality time with Alfred, something he never got tired of. He started to relax, munching on sweet potato chips and listening to his husband retell a somewhat disastrous event from school consisting of a confused classmate and a Bunsen burner.

    "He didn't even notice he was on fire until Dr. Fisher blasted him with the fire extinguisher," Alfred was saying, grinning. "The look on his face was priceless. Then when he started hollering he sounded like a stuck pig. And ya know that beaker he still had going?"

    Alex grinned. "Did it explode?"

    "Worse- the compound did, while his mouth was still open. He was still barfing when the ambulance showed up. There's this shower-thing they have in all the science rooms, for when we're messing with chemicals, and Dr. Fisher had to herd him under it. It's just this shower head thing and a drain in the floor, but let me tell you they've got real good water pressure. I think he almost fell over when Fisher pulled the lever. He went from a snowman to a drowned cat in two seconds flat."

    They were still laughing when _he_ had approached. Alex's hackles had gone up even before he'd leaned against the side of their booth, amusement vanishing. Alfred frowned worriedly, noticing Alex's abrupt change in mood. He'd turned as Francois smirked, focusing his attention on Alfred.

    "Well, well. It's been a while," he purred. "You don't look worse for wear, considering you've spent far too much time with my idiotic cousin."

    Francois actually reached out, like he was going to touch Alfred. Alex's hand flashed out, grabbing his cousin's wrists in an iron hold, making the Frenchmen wince. He was Oliver's older half brother, and quite frankly he was the one thing that he and the Blackwater siblings agreed on: they hated the guy. Francois had showed up the day before Alex and Alfred had gotten married. He'd only left after the neighbors had called the cops on them. It hadn't been pleasant, to say the least. Prior to that, Alex had been able to keep him and his lover separate. Normally Alfred would have protested more, but with both Max and Oliver backing him up, he'd let it go.

    Smiling coolly at Alex, he said simply, "I don't hurt potential bedmates, cousin. Unless they wish it, of course. Do you?"

    Alfred balked, cheeks turning pink even as Alex tightened his grip, making Francois wince. He slammed the wrist down on the table, hard. He stood, getting in his face, trying to ignore the reek of cigarettes and wine.

    "You don't touch him," he growled. "I will beat your ass so fast you won't have time to beg."

    "Alex!" Alfred protested, grabbing his arm. "Let him go."

    There was precious little Alex would have enjoyed more than an excuse to pound Francois into a pulp. Oliver would applauded him. Max would just grumble that he hadn't left anything for him. But he knew they were already getting attention, and Alfred wouldn't like him killing his own cousin no matter how much he deserved it.

    Reluctantly, Alex let him go, thrusting his hand away. He lowered himself back into his seat, but didn't face the table again. Francois stumbled back a step, but didn't seem otherwise bothered, oily smirk in place.

    "I'm merely appreciating your choice in company," he drawled, shamelessly running his eyes up the blond. "If you ever get tired of him, you know where to find me. I can assure you I'm much more pleasurable company."

    "He's not going anywhere near you. Now beat it before I beat you."

    Francois shrugged, making his way towards he door, hands in his pockets. Alex watched him go, still tense. Only when the door had shut behind him did he slowly turn back to the table. He wasn't hungry anymore, pushing his plate away and grabbing his beer. He threw back what was left in a single draft, slamming the glass down and jamming a hand back through his hair.

    "Alex?"

    "How the hell did that jackass find us?"

    "I dunno, a lot of locals come here. Maybe he likes to pickup people here or something. He's too much of a snob to stick around for the food. Alex, relax."

    "Why should I?" he snapped.

    "Because he's a sleazy playboy. I don't see why you're so mad. Yeah you were always annoyed when he came around, but-

    "Get the check," Alex growled. "Now."

    Alfred had still looked worried, but had called over the server. They'd paid in a hurry, and Alex had more or less dragged him home after that. As soon as they were inside, Alex had slammed the door, thrown the locks, and attacked Alfred.

    Until now, Alfred had kept quiet, something he rarely did. It occurred to Alex abruptly that this might not be a good sign. The only other times he got quiet was when they watched horror movies with ghosts. Alfred liked vampires, werewolves, demons, zombies, the more gruesome the better. Ghosts and poltergeists, however, terrified him.

    Slowly, Alex rested his head on his husband's shoulder. He let go of Alfred's wrist, putting both arms around him, fisting his hands in his t-shirt. Damn it. Alfred had never been afraid of him. Never.

    "I'm sorry, babe," he muttered. "Just...don't look at me like that, alright? Save it for the ghosts."

    For a minute, Alfred didn't say anything. Then he sighed wearily, slumping in Alex's arms. "What's gotten into you, Al? Come on, talk to me."

    "You don't know what that ass is like," Alex growled, pulling away. He ran a hand through Alfred's hair, tangling his fingers in it. "He's a bastard who knows all the right things to say, all the right damn moves. I've seen him talk a fucking priest into his bed, alright? He always had this habit of targeting people he thinks we're interested in. It's amazing he hasn't done more than he has already with you guys."

    "I know."

    Alex frowned, pulling back to look Alfred in the face. "What?"

    Alfred chewed his lip worriedly, then winced. Alex felt a tiny spark of pride, making his lips so tender so quickly. "I know. Promise you won't tell Oliver or Max, alright?"

    "Tell them what?"

    "Promise, Al."

    Gritting his teeth, Alex bit out, "Promise. Now spill, thunder thighs."

    Alfred fiddled with the collar of Alex's jacket. "He's...come around before a few times, in the last few years. He only bugged Arthur once, mostly because he bashed his face in with a frying pan. Mathew he came after a few times. The last time he came around was after Mathew's team lost."

    Alex, despite the white-hot rage broiling in his belly, winced. He'd seen Mathew when his team was winning. It was frightening enough. He hated to think about what he'd done to Francois when his team had lost. No, wait, he _liked_ it. It was a very pleasant picture...

    "For whatever reason....." Alfred sighed. "I don't know why, alright? I keep telling him to butt out but he won't. He shows up every few months, tries to hit on me."

    "How long?" Alex growled.

    "A few years. Since we were serious. Look, it doesn't mean anything. He's a pest, that's it. Alex, I love _you_ , I married _you_." He met Alex's eyes, smiling a little. "Besides, you know how I feel about cigarettes. They smell bad, taste worse, and they kill you. He's a drunken slob. Compared to you, he's a pervert, and that's saying something. I don't see why you're so upset, Alex."

    Alex wavered, tightening his grip on Alfred's hair a little. "You...

    Years. The bastard had had it out for him for _years_. He'd targeted anyone Alex had shown remote affection to. Worse, he was too good at talking people into bed, no one turned him down in the end. Every time, without fail. Until now. Max, even Oliver had had similar problems. They'd excluded Francois, made him a pyre, but he kept coming back like a horny bad penny. He couldn't speak for Arthur or Mathew, but....he believed Alfred had turned him down. Looking back on it, he'd witnessed one of those events. Alfred had only looked mildly annoyed, and embarrassed at the mention of getting rough in bed. Alex knew he did like it a bit rough, but outside the bedroom he was still quite shy about such things.

    Alfred squeaked, eyes widening as Alex attacked his mouth again, nipping his already tender lip before plunging passed them. He flailed a little, gasping as Alex pulled away to start dragging him to the bedroom, yanking off his jacket. He stumbled, but didn't protest, letting his husband jerk his shirt over his head.

    "Alex, what is it now?" he gasped.

    "I love you, so I'm going to fuck you ten ways from noon, pork chop. That simple."

    "Uh- whoa! Did I miss something?" Alfred demanded breathlessly as he was dumped unceremoniously onto their bed.

    "Don't know. Don't care," muttered Alex, yanking off their footgear. He peeled off his own shirt, then crawled over Alfred, grabbing his cowlick with one hand and his belt with the other. "What is it with you and belts? They're fucking hard to get off in a hurry."

    "Sorry," said Alfred, not sounding at all apologetic.

    "Cocky bitch," rumbled Alex, finally undoing his belt.

    "I'm not a- ah! Wh-What happened to drawing the line at bitch? Lube, lube, don't forget lube, Al!"

    Alex chuckled. Keeping one hand between Alfred's shoulder blades, making sure the blond was pinned firmly to the bed before leaning over and pulling open the bedside drawer. He fished out the lube, settling back on the bed. Alfred struggled, but not very much. By this point Alex had them both exactly where he liked them: naked, with Alfred pinned to the mattress.

    "Don't insult me, babe," Alex scolded, pausing to give the ass before him an appreciative smack. "It's hard to get you screaming my name without lube."

    "What happened to a date night?" Alfred whined.

    "It's still ending in sex, babe," Alex said absently, squirting lube onto one hand and tossing the bottle aside.

    "This wasn't what I had in mind," grumbled Alfred.

    "You're mine, babe."

    "You don't need to.....ahhh, don't need to go all rough to make your point."

    Alex knew he was probably pushing it, but he didn't care. He was already at two fingers, coaxing in a third. He was kneeling between Alfred's thighs, keeping his shoulder's pinned to the bed.

    Their first time together, he'd told Alfred to tell him 'nuclear' if he ever wanted him to stop. So far, he'd only used it twice. Both times had been during experimentation with things Alex had gotten at Oliver's suggestion. He had yet to protest at rough, basic sex.

    "S-Slow down, Alex," gasped Alfred, trying to push his shoulder's off the bed.

    Alex pushed him back down, but stopped scissoring the three fingers now inside him. He worked them slowly in and out, giving it another minute before he started stretching him again. Running a hand up his spine, Alex skimmed his fingers over Alfred's neck, studying the smooth flesh. Mmm, sure Alfred had a ring now, but he had the odd urge to mark him more...permanently.

    "You're mine," he repeated, taking out his fingers. He grabbed the lube, coating his by now erect cock.

    "Isn't that what the ring is for?"

    Alex ignored the question, pushing into him. Alfred gasped below him, hands tangling in the sheets. Alex groaned, reaching down to grab the blond's cowlick. He twisted it slowly, toying with it, getting a needy whine from his lover.

    "Alex," moaned Alfred, pushing back into him. "S-Stop it. Move, damn it, _move_."

    That was all he needed to hear.

    It was sometime later, after tormenting Alfred for as long as he could without feeling guilty, and getting a literal scream from his partner, that Alex flopped down onto the bed. As he caught his breath, he idly combed his fingers through Alfred's damp hair, enjoying the moment. It was one thing to get Alfred to say his name, or scream when his climax hit. But to hear the man literally screaming his name like that? He'd been close to the edge already, but that alone hurled him over it completely.

    Alfred was cuddled up against his side, eyes closed, swollen lips parted as he panted raggedly. He only opened them several minutes later, and even then his gaze was a bit hazy. He reached up, taking Alex's right arm, the one across his body. He tugged it closer, running his thumb over the soft flesh on top of the ring finger.

    Alex closed his eyes, tipping his head back. While Alfred seemed somewhat fascinated by his tattoo's, especially after sex, he had adamantly refused to get any himself. His husband hated needles with a passion. He'd never admit it, but Alex didn't mind, mostly because he liked the feeling of Alfred's fingers tracing over his skin. Besides, he liked that cute look of blissful fascination Alfred got.

    This particular tattoo was one he'd gotten just last week. It was still in the healing process, but not enough for Alex to pull away. It was small, at least compared to his other tattoo's, more subtle. He'd kept with the Celtic weave theme that he'd had before, the ring encircling his finger a blocky, solid weave. For whatever reason, he hadn't really felt the need to get another tattoo since he'd been with Alfred. He'd gotten another piercing, yes, one in his nose, but still. It was also subtle, close to the skin of his nostril, much like the hoop in his lip was. No tattoo's though, at least not until recently. The tattoo's he had gotten before were all things he'd liked. He'd sworn adamantly to himself that he'd never be one of those people who tattooed their boyfriend's name on their body just to regret it later.

    But then he'd actually married someone. He'd toyed with the bizarre urge to get something in Alfred's honor, though he knew the blond would protest. Nothing big, flashy, and no names either. Something simple. He'd decided on the ring tattoo, liking the simplicity. Besides, he had found wearing a ring wasn't something he liked, and it could be hard to wear at work, so the tattoo had been a good compromise. He still wore the silver band, yes, but he liked having a second, more permanent marker.

    Alex turned the hand in Alfred's grip, lightly taking up his wrist. He pulled his husband's hand up, pressing his lips to the back of it. "Get some sleep, babe."

    Alfred grumbled a little, but it didn't last long. He was out in minutes, Alex not far behind.

 

**BREAK/BREAK\BREAK**

 

    Alex paced the kitchen, running a hand back through his hair. For the thousandth time, he checked his phone. Nothing.

    Brooklyn hopped up onto one of the counter stools, just barely making it up, and regarded him patiently. She was still little more than half grown, but that didn't make her any less able to reach high surfaces, as she'd proven repeatedly. Alfred complained regularly about her getting on his desk, especially when he was working. Aside from getting underfoot occasionally, Brooklyn was otherwise a well behaved cat, and Alex still adored her. Alfred liked to grumble, and apparently still had his eye on getting a dog in the near future, but he was also the one who slipped her tuna and other meet scraps regularly.

    Now, apparently not liking her owner's agitation, she meowed softly, tail twitching.

    "I know what he said," he snapped. "But it's getting late. He should still be back by now."

    The cat didn't respond, but he still stopped to pet her. It helped, if only slightly. He was still worked up, though.

    Alfred had left after lunch, saying he wanted to go to the library to do some research and work on a paper. When Alex hah pointed out he could do both via internet from the apartment, Alfred had just said something about the atmosphere and ducked out. While he hadn't really believed him, Alex had let it go. Now he was starting to regret it. He'd called, but it had gone to voicemail. When he'd texted, Alfred had just said 'Running late. B back by 9.' It was nine oh five.

    "Where is he?" Alex muttered, petting the cat.

    Brooklyn didn't respond, aside from pressing into his hand, purring a little.

    Alex was eyeing his phone, wondering if it was too soon to go out looking for his husband, when the front door unlocked. Immediately he was striding down the short hall, stopping barely a foot in front of Alfred as he shut and locked the door, dropping his backpack.

    "Where the hell have you been?" Alex demanded. "And don't give me any of that library shit."

    Alfred smiled sheepishly. He started to speak, but Alex caught him by the side of the neck, eyes narrowing. He ran a thumb under one of Alfred's eyes. He'd been crying.

    "What happened?" he asked, voice low.

    "Nothing, really. I just, um.....

    "Where were you?"

    "I wanted to get something. For you. Like what you got for me. I'm yours, and you're mine. It's a two way street."

    Alex's eyes narrowed. He gave Alfred a brisk up and down, then noticed the right hand his husband had behind his back. He grabbed his wrist, pulling up the hand for inspection. His eyes widened as he realized just what Alfred had done.

    "What the hell?" he demanded angrily. "You don't just do this at the drop of a hat. There's a process to this, babe."

    "I know that," Alfred protested, trying to tug his hand free, with little luck. "I've been kinda thinking about it for a while, I just made up my mind last night is all."

    Alex stared at Alfred's right hand. More specifically, his ring finger. The weave was different than his own, lighter, more elegant looking, but the concept was the same. Alfred had finally gotten a tattoo, and it was one that mimicked a ring, a wedding band. One very similar to the one Alex himself had gotten.

    He still hadn't let go of the side of Alfred's neck. He rubbed his cheek slowly, thumb brushing the soft skin. Alex knew Alfred _really_ didn't like needles. Having a shot was bad enough, never mind a tattoo. Plus, a finger was one of the more sensitive places to get one. That said....Alex's throat tightened a little. Alfred had gotten a tattoo for him. He had literally, permanently marked himself, just like Alex had.

    "Why?" he asked at last, meeting Alfred' eyes.

    Alfred cracked a smile. "Because I wanted to. This way maybe you won't have to screw my brains out every time you start to think I'm not all yours anymore. Besides, like I said, I was already messing with the idea. This way, it's practical too. You can't wear rings in the lab. Don't worry, I did it right, too. I went to your guy, talked it over with him, all that stuff. I'm fully aware of that process you were talking about. It was small, and he had an opening, so he was able to do it today. It just took longer than I thought it would." Wincing, he added, "Hurt like a bitch, too. I don't know how you got so many. This is my first and my last, got it?"

    Alex was never very good with pretty words. Rather than try, knowing nothing would come out right, he just kissed him. Kissed him long and slow and sweet, savoring it.

    If he hadn't had enough proof that Alfred was the best person in the world before, he certainly did now.


End file.
